


Sounds of Silence

by Magnetism_bind



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mind Control, Non Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hear my words that I might teach you,<br/>Take my arms that I might reach you. - Simon and Garfunkel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sounds of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 1stclass_kink over at Livejournal.

Shaw is genuinely pleased to see him. He's thought of Erik often over the years, ever since the boy escaped. Two of his men died for that carelessness. 

Then, at fifteen, Erik had been a rarity, a talented adolescent. Now though, he was a marvel. 

“I've thought of you often,” Shaw says fondly to the kneeling figure at his feet. “Did you think of me?”

The look of hatred Erik gives him makes him smile. No, not simply hatred, total loathing, barely controlled rage that's just waiting to be released. Shaw's skin tingles at the prospect of it.

“I can see that you have.” He takes in all of Erik. The supple grace barely concealed beneath the wetsuit. Every line of him is breathtaking. 

Casually, Shaw holds out his hand for the knife. Emma hands it over, still focused on Erik. And then, just as casually, Shaw kneels and cuts Erik's suit from him. Erik wavers between flinching at his touch, and glaring at him. Shaw leaves him naked on the deck and rises, touching Erik's hair as he does. The lightest of touches, affectionate, claiming.

“You should have learned, Erik. But I suppose a dog will always return to its master.” He gazes at the naked man, who's still struggling to regain control of himself. “You shouldn't waste your strength fighting Emma. It's pointless.”

Erik ignores him of course, which only serves to make Shaw smile wider. “Still as stubborn as always.”

Erik is beautiful in his pain. Shaw's proud of him. With little work, a little training, he could be perfect. Shaw looks again at the naked figure, and his dick twitches. 

Emma glances at him, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“You don't understand.” Shaw murmurs. “Erik is very special.” He loosens his belt. “Hold him still.”

“No.” Erik stares at him as Shaw crouches over him. “ _No._ ”

“Shh, Shh,” Shaw strokes his hair. “Hold him still, but let him scream.” He takes his dick out, letting Erik see it. Erik's fingers twitch futilely. Shaw watches in amusement, as he strokes himself once. The moan (helpless frustration, oh the beautiful rage of it) Erik makes when Shaw pushes his thumb inside him, makes him even harder. 

“You like that, don't you?” He strokes a hand down Erik's flank, reaching around to give Erik's own cock a squeeze, amused at its limpness. Erik's deliciously tight and warm around his thumb as he probes further. His body is in no way prepared for this. Shaw can taste the pain now. It's intoxicating. He pulls his thumb out, and positions himself. 

Erik, however, stays frustratingly silent as Shaw thrusts into him with a grunt. 

 

Miles away -

Charles claps his hands over his ears. Pain ricochets through him as the scream vibrates through his mind. 

“What's wrong?” Moira asks in concern. 

“Someone,” Charles can barely speak. “Someone...out there...is screaming.” It's an understatement. The utter agony he's hearing is beyond words. It's a storm of rage and fury, despair being tossed across the night. 

“Screaming.” Moira looks around. “I can't hear anything.”

“You wouldn't.” Charles manages. “He's keeping it in. Somehow, he's keeping it in.” Charles stares out at the dark sea stretching endlessly before the boat. 

_I will find you. I promise. I'll find you and you'll be safe. You are not alone._

_I am going mad._ Erik thinks calmly. The only surprise he feels is that it's taken so long. And that the madness is rather pleasant. This voice speaking to him feels kind. It's strange. 

_You're not going mad._

 _Aren't I?_ Erik is intrigued. _You're just a voice. A nice voice, true, but that's only..._ He fumbles for the right word, going back and forth between German and English. It's not fair. That's not the right word. It's not fair, it's not just ...if there was justice in the world, he would not be where he is now. 

Will the man never end? It seems as though Shaw has been inside him for hours. Erik's thighs are slick with blood and sweat as Shaw fucks him ragged. His own palms are tightly braced against the deck, the wood of it scrapes his knees. Distantly, he can feel it, all of it. It hurts, oh yes, but the physical pain is not what bothers him. It's that he's failed. Again. How could he fail again?

_This is merely a setback._ The voice tells him firmly. It's almost comical. 

_A setback?_ Erik wants to laugh, so he does. A helpless choked off laugh.

Shaw pauses mid-thrust. “What exactly is so funny?”

“Everything.” Erik gasps. He won't share his madness with Shaw. It's private; it's _his_. Shaw can't have the voice. 

The blonde is studying him. “There's something.” She takes a step closer and leans down to touch Erik's jaw. 

He screams in rage once more as the voice is gone. There's only emptiness, a gaping darkness surrounding him, threatening to swallow him. He feels the pain now, every bit of it as Shaw comes with a muffled groan, filling him with his come. 

_Disgusting_ , Erik thinks vaguely, but the voice doesn't answer him.

 

Charles jerks away from the pain flooding through him. His mind aches like it's been sliced open with glass, no, sharper than glass. He winces, cradling his temple. Diamond. Still trying to reach out to the man. 

“There's someone else in there.” Emma announces, picking through Erik's mind curiously. She disregards memories carelessly, tossing them aside. She sees Erik young and scared, Erik training endlessly, Erik searching for Shaw. Determined. Ruthless. She ignores it all, searching for the person who was there. 

“What?” Shaw straightens up. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and cleans his dick off.

“Another telepath. Trying to talk to him.” Emma nods at Erik, who's stopped twitching. He's simply half curled on his side, not acknowledging them at all. 

“Erik!” Shaw stares at him in delight. “Did you bring a friend?”

Erik mutters words, thick and garbled in German. Shaw can barely under it, but the point is that the fury is still there. It just needs to be tempered properly. Shaw fastens his trousers and reaches out with his shoe, rolling Erick over on his back. 

“Tell me.” 

“No.” Erik says quite calmly. He heard Emma, but the words don't matter. They want the voice. They can't have him. It's that simple. In his mind he begins building a barrier (metal, stronger than this feeble frame he's trapped in) to protect the voice.

“Now that's cute.” Emma sounds amused. “He's trying to protect them, whoever they are.”

“Is he?” Shaw reaches for the knife again. “We'll just have to do something about that, won't we?” 

The first cut stings, but doesn't register. Erik has his bearings now. 

 

_There._ The man wherever he is out in the sea is satisfied. 

_What?_ Charles reaches out. The pain, all of it, has receded. The man is still trapped, still in agony and yet.

_You're safe._

 _That's what I should be saying to you._ Charles's eyes prickle. He brushes at his eyes angrily. 

_He can't have you._

 _I'm coming for you._ Charles promises so loudly he practically shouts the words. _I won't leave without you._

 _I wish I could believe that._ The man answers him. 

 

“Sir," One of the sailors comes up to the captain standing beside Charles and Moira. "We have a fix on the boat. It's definitely Shaw's.”

“Send in the boats.”

“He's on that boat,” Charles tells Moira. “He's there.” 

“Yes, Charles, it's Shaw's boat.”

“No, not Shaw. _Him_.” He has no name. 

 

_What's your name?_ The voice asks.

Erik is surprised by this. _Don't you know?_

_No. It's...complicated._

Ordinarily Charles would just read the man's mind. It'd be easy, but this, it's all gray. He can't make it out between the diamonds and the metal barrier that seems to be built around him. His head is pounding, he can barely stand, but...

_Erik. My name is Erik._

_Erik, I'm Charles._

_You're the most pleasant thing that's taken place in my mind in years,_ Erik tells him. 

The voice is quiet. Erik tries to find it. It's not gone, just quiet. 

 

Shaw slaps him. “What's the matter with him?”

“He's trying to barricade himself in his mind.” Emma pushes at the barrier carelessly. It's work, but she'll get there. 

“Erik,” Shaw chides him, slapping his cheek again. “This isn't like you. You didn't use to hide.” He's disappointed. 

“I'm not hiding from you.” Erik looks up at him. He's lying in blood. His legs are crisscrossed with cuts, where Shaw turned his knife on him. His knife. That should have stung more. 

“Then what are you hiding from?”

“I'm not hiding.” Erik pushes himself up, doing his best not to slip in the blood, to grab at Shaw's throat. His fingers touch it, tighten around it. This time he won't fail when...

He's being dragged, lifted, flung into the air out into the water. Cold, dark water rushing up to meet him.

“Emma, I wasn't finished with him.” Shaw sighs. He looks at the blood on the deck distastefully. “Have Azazel clean this up. Then get him back.” He looks out across the water. No, he's not done with Erik just yet.

 

The water shocks Erik back into life. His body is aching. The blood washes away in the ocean. The salt bites at his cuts, but he's alive. The diamond hold is gone. He raises his arms and calls the metal anchor to him. 

 

Charles stares at the water, raking it with his eyes. Erik's down there somewhere. 

“We'll find him, Charles.” Moira reassures him, even if she doesn't quite believe him. 

Charles's attention is split, as he tries to remain focused on the other telepath still blocking him, and Erik, who...

“My god,” Charles whispers. The rage inside Erik has sharpened, focused. Still flailing, still wild, but now definitely aimed at the boat. 

Erik sends the anchor crashing at the boat. Every twist of it against the wood makes his entire body sing. The metal thrashes and coils and then the submarine shoots away away from him. Erik reaches out for it, and holds. 

The water is chilling him, but he holds. He can't feel anything but the submarine pulling away from him. He holds. 

“No!” Charles shouts, stripping off his coat. Shaw's escaping, but he won't let Erik drown. He can't. He hasn't yet spoken all the things he wants to say to Erik. They've never discussed all the topics Charles is dying to discuss with him. He leaps into the water. 

It hits like a bullet, but he swims, diving deeper. His fingers reach for Erik. His body is cold under Charles's touch. He doesn't even look at Charles as he fights to hold the submarine.

_Calm your mind._

 _Not real._ Erik dismisses him now. He's too focused. 

_I am. I'm here. I promised. You're safe. You'll get another chance, Erik._

_Failed. Again._

_No. Calm your mind, Erik. You're not alone. I'm here._

Finally, Erik gives in and they swim together upward. 

When they reach the surface he breaks apart, staring at Charles incredulously. 

“You. Charles.” 

“Yes,” Charles says. “Erik.”

They get brought aboard the boat. Charles shouts for a blanket and a medic. Erik's shivering without seeming to notice it at all. His cuts are bleeding again. They hustle him off to the infirmary, but Charles follows. 

“I think it'd be better if you waited outside, sir.” The doctor tries to tell him. 

“No, I'm not leaving him.” 

Charles waits at Erik's side, studying him intently. This is Erik. This is the mind he heard so far away and reached out to. This is a man with immeasurable strength. (And rage, Charles reminds himself. He could be a danger to himself and others. But it's _Erik._ ) 

Erik's eyelids flutter, and then they open. He blinks and focuses, looking up at Charles. 

“Hello, Charles.”

In spite of everything, Charles smiles, “Hello, Erik.”


End file.
